A Different Kind of Cure
by everlarklullaby
Summary: The story of a Ariya, a girl getting the operation to turn pretty and her doubts on leaving her best friend.
1. Chapter 1

Chapter 1

I can't believe it, tomorrow is the day. Sixteen, finally. I've been counting down the days on one of those special countdown clocks the city provides for you. You punch in the date and it gives you the number of days left until you turn pretty. When I originally made it, I was devastated and kept retyping in the current day and the date of my birthday to make sure I hadn't put in the wrong one. But it was correct. Now there's less than 12 hours left until I am escorted to New Pretty Town for my surgery. I've been making alternate shapes of my face ever since I could wear an interface ring. I am ecstatic except for one thing, leaving Lars, my best friend. I met him in my second year here. Our birthdays are two months and ten days apart. And while that only seemed like a short time when we first met, tonight we realize it is eternal.

"Ariya? Where are you?" yells Lars. "Down here!" I answer. He sits down on the grass at the bottom of the hill and looks off to the skyline of New Pretty Town. "That's going to be your new home tomorrow." says Lars. "And yours in 2 months and 11 days." I reply. Over the past few days we've spent every possible moment together, although I doubt it was much different than before. "I still can't believe we won't see each other for the next two months." He says sadly. "I thought we had been over this, we're going to video chat every day, and I'm coming to visit." I say patiently. "I know, but it's not the same, you're still leaving, and will YOU really be visiting?" He replies miserably. "What do you mean, of course I will, you think I'll send someone in my place?" The idea is preposterous and I expect to see him laughing but instead I see a nervous expression. "What are you scared of Lars?" I ask. "Ariya, I'm scared that I'm going to lose you."

"Lose me? Lars, please, you're being paranoid, the odds of the operation going wrong are one in a billion, and it says so in the brochure." I scoff at his worry. "That's not my point!" He says as if he's lost all patience with me. I look at him, startled, "Then what is it?" He takes a deep sigh and pauses to recollect his thoughts before answering, "I'm scared that…" Then suddenly, I get it, or at least, I think I do. "Oh! You mean you're scared I'm going to get caught up in picking my new mansion, getting a new wardrobe full of new clothing, going to parties-" I stop because I realized I trailed off fantasizing. "Something like that." He says disappointedly. I obviously didn't hit the jackpot. "Lars, you're my best friend, tell me the truth." He sighs again, probably hoping that I don't cut him off this time. "When I first arrived here, I had a friend, a mentor of sorts." His expression tells me it pains him to talk about this. "He helped me with everything, we were basically brothers, I knew him better than he knew himself, and vice versa." I nod, urging him to go on. "Then came time for him to get his operation, and when he left, we made a promise to never forget each other. Some promise that was!" He adds angrily, I can only guess what the next part will hold. "Then, one day, he came back with some friends to take a tour back to Uglyville, to reminisce his ugly days." "But who would ever want to do that?" I ask, bewildered, but that was obviously not his point. He continues, "Anyway, I was thrilled to see him and couldn't wait to go over and talk to him, but guess what? When I started talking to him, he barely remembered my name."

"What? How is that possible?" I ask in soft disbelief, it makes no sense, "How could he have forgotten someone that knew him better than he knew his own self?" He nods as if I'm the first person to understand his frustration. "So I did some research, went to the dorm library and read early books that explained more about the surgery than any book would today." Any boredom I had before is gone. He was looking for the basics of our society and had never told me! "And at 3 am on a Tuesday under the dust of a forgotten book and my need for sleep, I found it. I found that the surgery changed your way of thought, any ideas of rebellion and independence obliterated, the surgery didn't just turn you pretty-faced, it turned you pretty-minded."

My jaw falls open before I can stop it. "I hid the book where no one could find it, who knows where it is now." He adds. "So, that's why I'm afraid, Ariya, I can't bear to lose you to some not-so-pretty brain wash." His face looks exhausted, but not because of the time, but because he remembered a person that loved him one day and thought he was a random ugly the next. I grab his shoulder reassuringly, "There's a difference, between me, and that guy, I know what they do to you besides making you look pretty." This seems to calm him, but not much. "I just can't have someone else forget me again, Ariya." "I won't let that happen, Lars, the first day I'm out of recovery you'll call me, and I won't ever forget you, then when you come to New Pretty Town, I'll be the one to remind you." This somehow seems to tense him up again. "Ariya, we have no idea what they can do in that room to you, they could make your brain start from Step 1 if they wanted to." I've tried to be strong, but he's right. They could make my brain a clean slate if they wanted to. Suddenly I'm scared for the operation tomorrow. He sees my worry and attempts to calm me. "Ariya, I didn't mean to scare you, you probably will remember me and everything we've done together, and it really is just a couple of month's wait." But his words feel fake to me. I turn around and ask him softly, "How can you be so sure, Lars?" "Because of this," He leans in and his lips meet mine, soft and inviting. I'm not sure if I should enjoy it, but I do and don't pull away reluctantly until I am sure we will suffocate. He whispers, "Good-bye." And leaves. I'm not sure of his prime reason for kissing me, but I am sure that I won't forget him. Because what girl forgets her first kiss?


	2. Chapter 2

Chapter 2

When I wake up, I have about 15 seconds of birthday happiness before last night's events come crashing down on me. Then the questions start flooding in. What's going to happen to my brain? Why did Lars kiss me? Why did I enjoy it so much? Could they really erase all memory and make me start all over again? My grumbling stomach doesn't help my anxiety. But it's pre-surgery procedure, no food or water 16 hours before. I always wondered what my emotions would be on the morning of my surgery, I guessed happy anxiety, but never worried about what they would do to my brain or why we kissed so affectionately last night when we're supposed to be best friends. But when I see the time, I realize those thoughts will have to wait because I have to get dressed and finish packing. By the time the car arrives I'm finishing up my good-byes. I thought I was done until Lars comes down the steps. We hug good-bye, almost nonchalantly. "You thought I wouldn't come to see you off? We're still best friends, you know." He says. Are we? Are we really still best friends? Because I feel all that comfortableness I felt around him evaporating into thin air. "I'll see you in two months, and 10 days." I say. I get in the car and close the door. Even though we still haven't sorted out all of our reactions, we still are technically best friends. Or are we something more? We were supposed to remember each other as basically cousins. But this would all be easier if I knew why he did it. If it was so I remembered him as a best friend and the kiss was just a last-minute attempt to etch him into my mind, I would forget it entirely. But somehow that seems difficult, because I liked that kiss.

New Pretty Town isn't all I expected it to be, it's more. The architecture is already a wonder, but what awes me the most is the people. Happy. Everywhere that I look I see the same expression. These people look as if there were no problems in the world. Because for them, there aren't. I am escorted into the building. The way to my room goes through a hallway of before and after pictures, pinpointing each technique used on that person to go from ugly to pretty. But what they fail to put on those boards is the brain and the techniques used on it. But they wouldn't want people knowing that every single drop of independent thinking is crushed during the procedure. They'd have ugly protests right and left. They strap me onto the bed and explain to me what's going to happen. Nothing I didn't memorize from the brochure. They start getting ready to put me to sleep. Lars, Lars, Lars, Lars. We promised not to forget each other. And I keep my promises. Lars is your best friend. Lars=Best Friend. Best Friend=Lars. Lonely in New Pretty Town? Look for Lars! Then I get an idea that I feel stupid for not thinking of before. "Excuse me?" I pipe up. The doctors turn their heads to look at me. "Um, could I get a pen and paper, it won't take long. Please." They give me some and continue their prep work. I write: Lars Kapp is your best friend. Call him as soon as you can. "One more thing," I ask way too confidently for an ugly at the mercy of 5 doctors, "Could you give this to me when I wake up?" The nurse takes the paper and nods kindly. "Of course, sweetie." Her middle pretty face is full of wisdom and reassurance. That's the last thing I see before my eyelids give up on me.


End file.
